Ian closed his eyes, panic thrumming through his veins. Did this mean he had to meet with Harold again? Had Harold smelled Brad on him, somehow?
“I could talk to him,” Brad said. “Punch his lights out.”
“No, don’t.”
“What about I hunt him down and rip his balls off?”
Ian cracked a smile. “Not that, either. I appreciate the sentiment, though.”
Brad watched Ian, a tiny grin spreading through his face. “At least you’re smiling now.”
Ian looked down, his heart pattering. Through his fear, Brad was someone he clung to.
“No violence,” Ian said.
“Just in bed, right?” Brad murmured. “When you want it hard.”
Ian’s cheeks burned, and Brad smirked. They left the question hanging, heading back to the lab.
There, they found Gwen pasting stickers into her sticker book, sitting at her usual spot by the computer desks.
“Hey, kiddo,” Brad said, ruffling her hair.
Gwen scowled. “My hair!”
“One of these days, you gotta stop fussing so much about your hair,” Brad said, scooping her into his arms. “How’re you?”
“Good.” Gwen stuck her tongue out. “You’re like Daddy, always worrying.”
Ian sighed. “I want the best for you, hon.”
“I know, I know.” Gwen huffed, squirming around in Brad’s arms. Then she reached for Ian, and Ian’s heart fluttered.
It was comforting, knowing that Gwen still wanted him around. Especially now that she had Brad, too, and Brad had been helping her so much with her schoolwork.
He stepped up close to Brad, hugging their daughter. This had his arms brushing against Brad’s chest, and Ian couldn’t help wanting more of Brad’s warmth. He wanted to just sink into Brad’s chest, and forget today happened.
Instead, he hugged Gwen, burying his nose in her hair. She smelled like shampoo and sweat, and it calmed Ian to have her in his arms again.
“I’m strong,” Gwen said, flexing her arms. “Look!”
Brad laughed. “Just like me.”
“Daddy says I’ll probably be an alpha when I grow up.” Gwen puffed up her chest. “I wanna do all the things!”
“You will.” Brad set Gwen on her feet. Then he crouched before her. “You think? What do you wanna be?”
“I wanna be just like you,” Gwen said. Hesitantly, she added, “Daddy.”
Brad’s eyes grew round. Then he smiled so wide that Ian thought his face might crack. Brad glanced at Ian, as though he wanted to say, Did you hear that?
Ian laughed softly. Over the past few weeks, Gwen had been settling into the idea of Brad being her father. A couple days ago, she’d begun to call Brad Daddy, and Brad had been overjoyed each time.
It was amazing that Brad wanted to be part of their family.
“Yeah?” Brad asked. “You wanna be me when you grow up?”
“Yes! I wanna drive all the trucks!” Gwen wriggled, and Brad danced with her in a circle, careful not to crash into anything in the lab.
“So are you guys getting married?” On the other side of the lab, June looked up from her test tubes. “Sorry to interrupt.”
Ian blushed, glancing around. There wasn’t anyone else save for June—the undergrads had left, and the post-docs had gone out to dinner.
Brad met Ian’s eyes. “You wanna?”
Ian’s stomach flipped. Then he thought about Sue in the classroom, her disbelieving gaze darting between himself and Brad. “It’s too soon to talk about that.”
June glanced at Ian’s belly. “Sure, Ian.”
Ian shrugged.
Brad released Gwen, pulling Ian into a hug. “Still feel bad?”
Brad’s arms were warm, his chest solid, but being this close to him made Ian’s senses jangle. He couldn’t help looking at the lab door, squirming out of Brad’s arms. “Not right now.”
“It’s safe here,” Brad murmured, his eyes knowing.
Ian shook his head. “Rather not.”
“What happened?” June asked. She glanced at the door, curious.
“Sue saw us,” Brad said.
Ian closed his eyes, trying not to groan. “We should’ve just waited until we got home.”
“What the hell did you do?”
“We kissed. That’s all.” Ian sighed, his face prickling.
“But you kiss Brad all the time,” Gwen said. “Sometimes you do the tongue thing and it’s ew.”
Ian dragged his hands down his face, his skin too tight. He couldn’t look at June—that was too much information as it was.
“O...kay,” June said. “French kisses aside, what did Sue say?”
“I don’t know,” Ian answered.
“She was kinda weirded out.” Brad frowned. “Then she said she wouldn’t tell, but who knows?”
“It’s going to reach Harold soon,” Ian mumbled. He glanced at the lab door again, almost expecting one of the post-docs to return. Sooner or later, someone else would walk in on them.
“I’ll keep an eye on things here,” June said, pursing her lips. “Don’t worry.”
“’Worry’ is Ian’s middle name,” Brad said dryly. “We should get going. It’s not good for him to be in the college right now.”
June peered at Ian with some concern, but Ian had enough of being watched for today. The mention of Sue, and Harold, and losing his position here... Panic jabbed into him, closing around his throat.
“We need to get home,” he mumbled.
“Yeah,” Brad said. “C’mon, Gwen. Time to go. Thanks for watching Gwen, June.”
Ian followed his alpha and his daughter out of the lab, looking at the floor, and at his hands. They got into Brad’s car. The trip home passed in a blur.
The sky was dark and the streetlamps were orange, and when they pulled into the driveway, part of Ian relaxed a little.
No one could see them here. He could hide away, find some sort of release. And now he couldn’t look Brad in the eye, because he didn’t want Brad to know what he planned on doing.
The moment Brad carried Gwen to her room, Ian slipped into the hallway bathroom, kneeling by the cabinet under the sink. There, he reached up past the cabinet opening, to where he’d taped a slender box in the very corner of the cabinet, out of sight.
No one had found the box—to even see it, you’d have to stick your head into the cabinet, roll onto your back, and look up. So Brad had missed it, and so had Gwen.
Ian’s hands shook when he opened the box. It felt a little bit like addiction, maybe, except it wasn’t quite the same.
He slid the scalpel out, its weight comforting in his hand. Ian scraped his thumb along the blade, testing it.
It was still sharp as a razor. He set the box down, his skin itching, his chest too tight.
He thought about the college, the announcement on the noticeboard, Sue’s accusing stare.
Then he thought about Harold’s disgust from years ago, when Ian had opened his office door, and Brad’s father had been standing outside, his nostrils flared. There had been no way to hide Brad’s scent on his skin, the musk that clung to his clothes.
You’re a disgrace to the college, Harold had muttered, his lip curling.
His heart heavy, Ian shrugged out of his shirt, grabbed a lighter, and flicked it on. Orange flame danced against the scalpel blade.
Don’t hurt yourself, Brad had told him.
For a moment, Ian wavered. He thought about Brad frowning, Brad’s disappointment when he discovered that Ian wasn’t as strong as he’d hoped.
Why do I keep failing everyone? Why can’t I be stronger?
Ian shoved his forehead against the bathroom counter, his eyes burning. He wanted to be somewhere else. Wanted to be someone other than himself.
The loathing squeezed around his throat, and he pushed the blade between the lines of his scars, breathing through the pain. It didn’t hurt so much. Gwen’s birth had hurt more.
Ian lifted
the blade out, pushing it down onto another patch of skin, deeper this time. So it really burned, fire scorching down his nerves.
He hissed, the agony razing his thoughts away.
For a moment, there was nothing but silence in his mind, and the throb of pain.
He leaned against the counter, just breathing.
There were people who looked down at you for cutting yourself to pieces. Ian had figured they knew nothing about the release, they didn’t know how good it felt, just to let yourself float away. There was pain, and freedom, and for a few moments, Ian didn’t have to worry about his job, or his life, or being good enough.
He opened his eyes when his arm itched. Blood had trickled down his skin. Ian stood, holding his arm over the sink. Watched as the crimson droplets disappeared down the drain.
Ian sighed, pressing his forehead against the mirror. It had been months. Felt good to welcome the pain into his body again.
Someone knocked on the door. “Ian?”
Ian froze, his breath stumbling in his throat. Brad.
“Ian?” Brad knocked again. “You okay?”
No, Ian wasn’t okay. He looked at the bloody streaks down his arms, his heart pattering.
Brad had told him to stop this. For months, Ian had listened. Now, he’d sunken back into hurting himself, ignoring Brad’s request.
Gods, you’d hate me for it.
“Ian?”
I’m fine, Ian wanted to say, but his voice was stuck.
“Ian!” Brad tried the door handle. For a heart-stopping moment, Ian thought the handle might give, and Brad would step into the bathroom. Brad would look at him, incredulous and disappointed. Ian’s heart clenched.
The lock held.
Ian set the scalpel down quietly. Turned on the faucet, running his arm beneath the cool stream. The water turned pink, and when he got to his upper arm, the wounds burned.
I didn’t want to disappoint you, too.
“At least tell me you’re okay,” Brad said, his voice muffled.
“I’m okay,” Ian croaked breathlessly. It didn’t sound right.
On the other side of the door, Brad swore. “Open the door, please.”
Ian glanced at the door handle. Then he looked down at himself, two new cuts against a patch of silvery scars. He wondered how Brad ever managed to look past this. Brad probably wouldn’t now.
For a long moment, Ian hesitated, torn between hiding the scalpel and wounds, and letting Brad find him like this.
If he hid, he’d keep Brad around for longer. If he didn’t... then Brad would leave, and Ian wouldn’t have to worry about whether his alpha would stay.
He bit his lip, his throat growing tight. For Gwen’s sake, Ian should prolong their stay here. So he rinsed the scalpel under the faucet, dried it on one of the towels. Slipped it back into the box.
Then something metallic slid into the door lock, and it clicked. Ian stopped breathing.
The door opened, and Brad stepped in, sharp eyes locking onto Ian.
Brad will break up with me.
Ian wanted to look away. But he couldn’t, when Brad glanced at Ian’s chest, his wet arm, the cardboard box that held the scalpel.
Ian’s face burned. He turned himself away from Brad, his stomach twisting when Brad stepped closer.
“Hey,” Brad said, meeting his gaze through the mirror.
Ian couldn’t read his expression. Instead, he looked down at the sink, then his forgotten shirt on the floor.
Brad closed the bathroom door. Locked it. And now the bathroom was cramped with the two of them, Brad’s broad shoulders taking up most of the space.
Ian crouched, picking up his shirt. He’d started to bleed again, so he pressed the shirt to his arm. Stayed on the floor, waiting for Brad to leave.
Except the thought of Brad leaving him hurt, a lot. Ian bit his lip, his vision blurring. He didn’t want Brad to see. Didn’t want Brad to think Ian was crying to manipulate him.
He bent his head down, listening as Brad padded closer.
“Hey. Ian.” Brad knelt behind him, touching Ian’s arm gently. “You okay?”
“Mostly.”
He couldn’t bear to have Brad seeing him like this. The scars were bad enough, but the fresh cuts? Ian sucked in a shuddering breath. Brad wrapped those strong arms around him, dragging him across the floor.
Brad pressed his nose into Ian’s hair, reaching around to cup Ian’s face. He felt the tears, then. “Shit, Ian. Fuck.”
He turned Ian around to face him. Ian stared at the bathroom tiles. Avoided Brad’s eyes so he didn’t have to see Brad’s disappointment. “Sorry.”
Brad sucked in a breath. He really looked at Ian then, and Ian didn’t know how to explain himself. Wasn’t sure Brad would stay after he saw Ian this way, a mess of an adult.
“Is this... because of earlier?” Brad murmured. He touched Ian’s hand, the one that was holding the shirt to his arm. Then he pried Ian’s shirt off the wounds, and Ian closed his eyes. Waited as the shirt fell away. Brad swore.
“Sorry,” Ian said again. “I know I promised. I just... I can’t.”
Brad dropped the shirt. He curved his arms around Ian, and pulled Ian tight against his chest. “I should’ve been there,” Brad muttered. “Should’ve known better.”
Brad pressed kisses to Ian’s forehead. Ian trembled, his tears falling harder now.
“Why’re you still here?” he asked. He bit his lip, because of course now Brad would remember a reason to leave.
“Because I care,” Brad whispered. He ran his fingers through Ian’s hair, his breath warm on Ian’s face. “Should’ve found you earlier. Should’ve stopped you. I’m sorry.”
His touch almost felt like forgiveness. Like love. Ian leaned carefully into Brad, filling his lungs with walnut. And now his nose was stuffed, and he couldn’t breathe.
“Should’ve brought you home sooner,” Brad murmured, stroking Ian’s back. “I didn’t... I thought you’d stopped with this.”
Ian shrugged. “I thought I did, too. I’m sorry.”
Brad huffed. “You don’t have to be sorry for anything. Quit apologizing.”
He stroked Ian’s face, down his shoulder, pausing at Ian’s arm. Then he pressed gingerly around the cuts, and brushed his hand down to Ian’s fingers. Ian trembled, just watching him. Didn’t know why Brad was still here, faced with the sight of years of self-harm.
Instead, Brad cradled Ian’s face in his hands. Tilted his face up so their eyes met.
Ian looked away first.
“You’re still beautiful, you know,” Brad said quietly. “I still love you.”
That made Ian cry harder.
How was he so weak, that he needed to hear Brad’s words to pull himself together?
Did Brad really want a bondmate who couldn’t stand on his own feet?
Ian leaned into Brad’s shoulder, struggling to hold down his sobs. Brad held him. He stroked Ian’s hair, ran his wrists over Ian’s back. Ian shuddered. Buried his face in Brad’s shoulder and prayed Brad’s warmth wasn’t just a dream.
Ian lost track of how long they sat on the bathroom floor. He sobbed against Brad, relief replacing his terror, until things didn’t seem so bad anymore. When he was no longer worried about the college, and when he’d almost forgotten about the scalpel, he sank bonelessly against Brad, breathing in shakily.
And Brad was still there, still holding him, his hands gentle on Ian’s skin.
“Better?” Brad murmured, brushing a kiss down Ian’s neck.
“I think so,” Ian said thickly.
He lay his head on Brad’s shoulder, just staring at the bathroom wall trimmings. Wondered where they would go from here, how long Brad would continue to stay with him.
“Can you stand?” Brad slipped his hands under Ian’s arms.
Ian nodded, so Brad helped him to his feet. Brad picked up the cardboard box by the sink. He tipped the open end down, and Ian’s scalpel clattered onto the counter, incriminat
ing.
Ian winced, embarrassed.
“I’m gonna take this away from you,” Brad said, sliding the scalpel back into the box. “Okay?”
Ian hesitated.
“I’ll give you something better.” Brad kissed his temple. “Something that’ll help you.”
What would help him, Ian wasn’t sure. But Brad hadn’t judged him yet, and maybe Ian owed it to his alpha, to trust what Brad decided to do.
“Okay,” he said eventually.
“Good.”
Brad tucked the cardboard box away on the highest shelf of the medicine cabinet, behind the pill bottles. Then he opened the first aid kit, cleaning Ian’s wounds. Ian gritted his teeth through the sting of it. Watched as Brad cut off a strip of gauze, pressing it against Ian’s wound.
“You aren’t going to throw a fit at me?” Ian asked weakly. “Or... or leave?”
Brad met his eyes. “You want me to?”
Ian shook his head vigorously. “I just... thought you would.” He sighed. “I broke my promise.”
Brad pressed a kiss to his temple. “It’s not something I’ll throw a fit over.”
Ian cracked a disbelieving smile. “That’s too kind of you.”
“I want you to get better. Yelling isn’t gonna solve anything.” Brad rolled his eyes. He taped the gauze down, then wrapped his arms around Ian, nuzzling Ian’s ear. “I can’t believe you think I’d leave. Over this?”
Ian squirmed. “Well. What... would you leave me over?”
Brad snorted. “I don’t know. If you told me to, probably.” He looked uncertain for a moment. “You won’t tell me to leave, will you?”
Ian sighed, pressing his face against Brad’s shoulder. “Only if I think it’s good for you.”
Brad narrowed his eyes. “I’ll decide that bit for myself.” He paused, then made a decision. “I’m staying forever.”
That sent warmth through Ian’s cheeks. He chuckled, leaning into Brad’s strong chest, savoring the solid wall of his alpha. “You say that now.”
“I’ll say it all the time.”
It was naive of Brad, perhaps. All of this was too good to last.
But while Ian still had Brad smiling warmly at him, Brad’s heat soaking into his skin, he couldn’t help wanting more. Wanting to know what it would be like, the day he became someone Brad was proud of.
Omega Teacher’s Secret Page 22